


Missing Pieces

by SamCyberCat



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamCyberCat/pseuds/SamCyberCat
Summary: While he spends the night looking through archaeological finds at an old ruin, Dr. Schrader finds himself joined by a surprise guest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting of an older fic. Originally posted April 2015.

Long after the rest of the team had retired for the night, Dr. Schrader stayed up at the dig site. His work was illuminated only by the moon and one small lantern, but even so he just couldn't stop himself. Maybe it would be more sensible to carry on tomorrow, but when on the edge of an archaeological break-through there was no way that anyone could expect him to sleep.

He dusted some dirt from the surface of a pottery fragment, then took a moment to examine the pattern on it. These lines were what he was coming to recognise as being typical of Azran work.

“You certainly are a puzzle, aren't you?” he hummed to the fragment.

“Did someone say something about puzzles?”

Schrader jumped with a start and hastily turned around to see who had crept up on him. He grabbed hold of the lantern and shone it ahead, but quickly found that his worries were for nought, as the light settled on the grinning face of Elizabeth Riddleton. She wasn't connected to the dig team, but she'd turned up at the camp this morning, apparently keeping many of the group entertained with her wealth of puzzles. Ordinarily Schrader would love to try some riddles himself, but he'd been far too distracted by the prospect of a previously unknown Azran settling being uncovered.

“Ah, I was just referring to my friend here,” Schrader confirmed. He held up the fragment into the light.

Riddleton inspected it critically, before she replied, “You keep some interesting company, Dr. Schrader. It looks almost like it's making a frowny face.”

“Does it?” Schrader asked. He turned the fragment back towards him and had to admit that now it had been pointed out, he could see that; “Well, the Azran were known for their quirky taste. It's possible that this might have been intended to look like a face. Though rather I think it's a small part of a larger whole.”

“If that lot back at your camp are to be believed, you'll be the one to find that larger whole,” Riddleton commented, “Ooh, are those sandwiches you've got there? You'll never get through the night with itty-bitty sarnies like those.”

“I wouldn't touch those, if I were you. There's a mouse-trap in there,” warned Schrader.

“Not really one for sandwiches anyway,” assured Riddleton, “But why would you put something like that in them?”

“It's just my little joke,” Schrader chuckled, “Some of the lads at camp have wandering hands. So if they wander into my sandwiches they'll sharp learn not to do it again.”

“A few of them told me about your sense of humour. You might be rubbing off on them already,” Riddleton suggested. She took a seat on one of the larger rocks near to the lantern, her eyes moving across the various bits of pottery that had been unearthed today.

“One can only hope, Mrs. Riddleton,” chimed Schrader.

“Elizabeth will do,” Riddleton assured, “Can't have a dashing man like yourself call me by such formalities.”

“Dashing? No one has called me that for many years,” gasped Schrader. In truth, he was getting on in age. And while he had great pride in both his work and his ever-growing beard, he'd hardly consider himself at the forefront of any sort of romance.

“You must not keep the best sort of company then,” insisted Riddleton. She was grinning wickedly.

“Perhaps not,” mumbled Schrader, “And since we're on first-name terms, you can call me Andrew.”

“Andrew it is,” Riddleton replied, “So tell me, Andrew, what's a nice older codger like yourself doing in a place like this?”

“The ruins? Well, this is my life's work,” answered Schrader, “Not these particular ruins, but archaeology in general, I mean. I've been digging in the dirt as far back as I can remember and I'm not going to let a little thing like old age stop me.”

“Good on you, I say,” cheered Riddleton. She motioned as if she was making an imaginary toast, but without a glass to hold.

Schrader regarded her for a few moments, before he asked, “So what about yourself? You just sort of turned up at the camp this morning, but a few of them have said they've seen you in other places. Certainly my dear friend Hershel has mentioned you before.”

“Oh, that Layton. He is one for a good puzzle,” Riddleton evaded.

“He gets that from the best,” Schrader proudly assured. He wasn't certain this was strictly true, as Layton had seemed at least a bit interested in puzzles back when he'd first become a student at Gressenheller, but Schrader didn't mind taking credit for helping that along; “Sadly, he never picked up my habit for practical jokes, but he's wiser to them than most of my students.”

“I suspect that pulling pranks on others wouldn't do his gentleman act much good,” suggested Riddleton.

“Oh, tosh! Are you saying that a gentleman can't have a laugh every now and then?” Schrader objected.

Riddleton shook her head; “I'm saying that gentleman are often stuffy and wouldn't know fun if it bit them on the bum. You seem like you're much more concerned with having a good time than looking good in front of others.”

“I have always been more into the field work than the meetings,” admitted Schrader, “I'll be the one to make the discoveries – let someone else put them in a museum.”

“No wonder you have all these young assistants running around after you,” joked Riddleton, “They could learn something from that attitude.”

“You make it sound like I'm popular,” dismissed Schrader, “Or that I have my fingers in many pies.”

“Who doesn't, these days? If you're not making everyone's business your business then what's there to do in life?” hummed Riddleton.

“My dear Elizabeth, most people would consider that sort of gossiping a bad thing,” Schrader reminded.

“In that case, most people are boring,” dismissed Riddleton, “If they're going to sit around with their heads stuck in the ground then they should at least take a few puzzles to keep them company.”

“I couldn't agree more!” cheered Schrader. He had to stop himself from imitating Riddleton's imaginary toast gesture.

“So you're a man who likes his brain-teasers?” prompted Riddleton, despite already knowing the answer to that.

“Yes... and the Azran are the biggest brain-teaser of all,” he explained, “I've spent years looking into them. And even after Hershel had... well, we'll call it a break-through, there are still so many secrets to uncover. I feel that I can look at them from a new perspective now though.”

“Speaking of a new perspective...” muttered Riddleton. She got up from the rock she was sat on and picked up what seemed to be a smaller rock that had been lying on top, “I've been trying not to sit on this for the last few minutes. I think it might be part of your pottery puzzle.”

Schrader walked over and gratefully took the fragment from her. Indeed it was not actually a rock and seemed to fit in with the one that he'd already been looking at. Of course, age had worn away at it, so some of the edges were chipped, but it was clear that these two were meant to be together.

“That's two pieces of the larger whole then,” he observed, as he held them up in the light of the moon.

“And it looks like the frowny one has a smiley friend to join it,” Riddleton teased.

“Perhaps all part of the Azrans' humour,” said Schrader, “Maybe completing this pot will give that face something to smile about.” It would certainly give that lot back at the museum a new display item they'd be smiling over, that was for sure.

“If it gives only you something to smile about then that should be enough,” concluded Riddleton, “And sad as it is to say, I better be off. Most of your companions are tucked up in bed for the night and there are other people in other places who need a good puzzle.”

“Won't you stay until morning?” Scrader asked, dejectedly.

“Not today, I'm afraid,” declined Riddleton, “Maybe some other time. But right now I think you have more than enough puzzles to keep you busy.”

“Maybe so...” Schrader mumbled.

“Don't be so glum,” demanded Riddleton. She gave him a quick pat on the cheek, “There's only so much of me to go around and so many people in need of my talents. You'll see me again. I do seem to keep running into that Layton of yours often enough, at least.”

“Hopefully I'll see you sooner rather than later,” replied Schrader. He reckoned that neither of them had too much more later to hope for. “Well, I guess I'll say goodbye for now then...”

“Yep! Ta-ta until next time,” Riddleton hummed.

She gave a quick, jolly wave and then headed out into the night. It didn't take very long before she disappeared from the light of the lantern. Schrader could only assume that she must know her way around very well to not need any light at all. Perhaps Riddleton was even more well-travelled than he was and just had an instinct for knowing where to put her feet everywhere she went.

With the sound of footsteps growing fainter, Schrader sat there with the two bits of pottery in his hands. The smiley face and the frowny face, or whatever it was that the Azran had intended for them to look like. Somehow, for the moment, he was less bothered about that than he should be.

Part of him felt that perhaps an even greater mystery had just walked away from him...


End file.
